Classes are finally fucking over, my friends! Sure, I got some tutoring and some grading to do, but that shit is small potatoes. Stick a couple of them in my ass and send me into the desert! I don’t care. Ain’t no problem. I’ll return to you later in the day with some glazed baked potatoes and an impish grin! But legit, it feels fucking good to have a few weeks off before the Summer Semester cranks up! Cranks out. Cranks…off?
It’s been fucking crazy, dudes. Like, super fucking crazy around these parts. Not in a wholly bad way, but just fucking crazy. For example, I’ve literally typed up a draft of MMC the last two weeks and never gotten around to finishing them. We’re talking crazy to that ass-clenching degree. Anyways, it’s the motherfucking Weekend (Open Bar) and I’m goddamn ecstatic. The work laptop is closed, the ring light is powered off, and my existential pud is in my hands.
It’s finally the fucking weekend, my dudes. Finally! What a fucking week. Stressful ass end of the semester. My wife’s dance with a drug test for her new job, which will be decided one way or another by the time this column drops. Insomnia. Erratic weather. Just a real cavalcade of bullshit that has me thanking JCVD that weekly reprieve has arrived. Not a moment too soon, not a minute too early. I’m looking forward to blasting my brains into the ether-realm with The Universe’s Flower, eating a tremendous amount of junk food, and hanging out with your dank, musty, dingleberry’d asses.
It’s the Night of Night, my friends! Sitting here at 4pm, it’s a mere three hours until I finally get to see a new movie in the theaters. Thirteen months! Lost twenty-pounds (not good), gained twenty-pounds (about 5 pounds too many), grew a mustache, grew a beard, grew a mustache, and now I’m back to a beard. Since I’ve been in the theater last there’s been insurrections, elections, and a couple of Marvel television shows. It’s been a hell of a fucking ride, some bad, some good, the majority banal.
Anyways! That’s what is on the tip of my synaptic iceberg tonight! But there’s other shit popping off this weekend, and I want to share in all the revelry with you folks! Right here, at the Goddamn Open Bar!
What a fucking year it’s been, friends. And I know for many, it sure as shit ain’t over yet. But this week marks two weeks since I’ve received my J&J vaccine. Or in other words, this dude is ready to tentatively, and carefully begin to renter society. I mean, to the extent that I ever existed in it, you know? As a hermit and all. How am I celebrating this emergence? Why, I’m celebrating by partaking in two of my favorite things in the world. Hitting the movies on Friday evening and going out to dinner on Saturday afternoon.
What a fucking year it’s been, friends. Yet we’re slowly emerging from the morass, and with it brings a surreal feeling. However, I must underscore how fucking instrumental my digital kinship with ya’ll has been in sustaining some sort of sanity for the past thirteen months. Without these weekly columns, twice-weekly Twitch streams, and now Discord, I would have broken long ago.
If I kick the bucket anytime soon, I’ll lay content in knowing I helped facilitate the creation of some sort of small but meaningful refuge for a few people during this darkest of years. That said, it wouldn’t have been shit without the participation of all of you. So thank you so much for helping a brother out, and if I made you laugh a couple times talking about sniffing panties, boobs, or swearing at Dead Cells, I’m glad.
Anyways, this is Monday Morning Commute! I’ll share my own hopes, dreams, hypes, and vices for the week! Then you’ll hit the comments section and tag-in, it’s your goddamn imperative.
It’s official, comrades. Members of the Space-Ship Omega. The COVID-19 vaccine is currently coursing through my veins. Building antibodies. Shuffling me towards a day when I may return to the movies, watch sports with friends, and attend concerts. Build, antibodies! Build! Swell up, teach my body how to karate-chop this fucking virus. Missile dropkick the son of a bitch! Get big, get strong, get ready for me. ‘Cause Imma put your serum-ass to the test in three weeks or so.
Lordy, lordy! Look what motherfucking time it is, my friend! ‘Tis nothing less than the most glorious time of the fucking week. Namely, the fucking weekend! I just got done grading eighteen essays, which means I can shut my brain the fuck down until Sunday! It’s been an absolute nut-crusher of a week, and I cannot wait to vaporize my brain, engorge my stomach, and titillate my ocular-globes.
Listen, I can’t speak to the classic installments featuring both characters. I can’t! I simply can’t. However, I know that in the modern iterations, Godzilla ain’t got shit on Kong. Look at that gif! He don’t want that smoke. Guarantee dude runs away, like he spent the entirety of his last movie doing. And then? Dude will probably roll up, blast Kong with a cheap-ass nuclear reactor blast, and everyone will jizz. But pound for pound? Grit for grit? Kong’s a goddamn mauler and we must respect him as such. All of this is probably just an overly long way to introduce this column with the notion that, yes, I’m officially excited for this movie.
But that ain’t all, folks! Fucks! Nope. I’m stoked for a bunch of other shit this week, and I’ll let you know all about them below. That is, after all, the function of the weekly Monday Morning Commute. Then you’ll hit up the comments section with your own musing. It’s the tacit agreement we have, friends.
Are you ready? Whole squad’s ready! Forgive me from quoting the tune from The Falcon and the Winter Soldier’s Super Bowl trailer! I’m just so fucking pumped for this shit! As I’ve probably puked-up many times around these parts, Bucky is my favorite motherfucker in the MCU! Just an absolute unit of brooding, healthy male bonding, and gorgeous hair. How can you not love this motherfucker! It’s impossible, and now this son of a bitch is getting a co-starring role in the latest dollop of dashing MCU madness.
Man, I can absolutely relate to Murray from The Goldbergs. Motherfucking Spring Break is here, which means it’s time to pop off them jeans! Slip into something more comfortable, and fucking flat-out vibe. It’s goddamn glorious out today on the Eastern seaboard of the Empire. I got myself a warm-ass breeze wafting into my study, I got a warm-ass can of Diet Dew flying down my gullet, and I got a warm-ass glow in my heart.
Between the weather, the longer days, and the imminent approach of our vaccinations, I’m feeling hope. Really, I’m feeling hopeful for the first time since maybe the Fall. The Winter cracked open my psyche and blasted my mind-ass. Somehow while missing my prostate, because let’s be honest: an ass-blasting focusing on the prostate is a glorious, near-heavenly experience.